Chocolate Dreams and Handsome Strangers
by TaraJo
Summary: When a certain black-haired drifter arrives in the village for the summer, Draco is swept off his feet and his secrets are revealed one by one. Surprisingly, Draco is alright with that but will he be able to trust his feelings and take a leap of faith? Flangst, romance, a lot of chocolate (Draco is a chocolatier), bottom!Draco


A/N: Written for The HD Smoochfest 2014 Media Remix. This fic is a remix of Chocolat (film/book). Who wouldn't love Johnny Depp as the sexy gypsy Roux or Vianne's sensual remedy for every problem - chocolate! Now having a chance to give Harry and Draco a go in that scenario… just yummie! Betaed by lovely gusx217.

* * *

**CHOCOLATE DREAMS AND HANDSOME STRANGERS**

Draco raised his head from his task of grinding cocoa beans on his worktable and listened in front of the open window. The wind had changed, and he could sense something else changing with it, too. He had always had an ability to sense things and he had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts. Something was definitely going to happen soon and Draco could barely contain his curiosity. He grinned and continued his grinding.

Later that afternoon, when Draco was carrying a new batch of truffles from the kitchen to his chocolate shop, a bunch of children ran past his shop towards the river, shouting "The gypsies are here, the gypsies are here!" Draco raised his eyebrows and glanced at Josephine, his shop assistant.

"What are they on about? Gypsies, really?"

Josephine didn't even raise her head from her task of filling a tray of chocolate biscuits as she said, "They aren't real gypsies, more like drifters. They come down the river by their boats, usually they camp here a few weeks before moving on. You haven't been here long enough to see them before, but they keep coming every year. Some of the villagers don't like them."

"Hmm… I wonder…" Draco mused deep in thought, not noticing Josephine's sharp glance as he leaned on the door frame looking out.

"You better stay away from them, Draco. The villagers are already suspicious of you as it is, especially after you saved me from Serge. They talk about you already. Don't add more to the rumor mill by befriending the drifters," Josephine advised.

"You know me, Josephine, I've never cared about what people say about me and neither should you. You are the only one who knows my secrets, and as long as we can keep it that way, I'm absolutely fine."

Naturally, Draco had secrets. Josephine knew some of them, and he trusted her. Josephine wasn't a gossip. After all, she had some secrets of her own.

Draco had arrived in this little village in Southern France eight months ago, last September, and opened a small chocolaterie. The villagers had thought him crazy, because usually chocolatiers were found only in big towns, not in secluded little villages like Lansquenet-sous-Tannes. Here, the chocolate business was small, but Draco didn't need much. He appreciated the peaceful, simple village life as long as he was comfortable with it, and then he left again, moving on to a new village, new people, new life. Because, Draco was one kind of a drifter, too.

After finishing his education in the best schools of the wizarding world, Draco had made up his mind for his future. He had absolutely no interest in following his father's footsteps as a respected but ruthless businessman, and it had been an obvious disappointment for his father. After a fierce fight with his father and being disinherited from his family wealth, Draco had left England and began exploring the world. Having a serious sweet tooth and a great talent at brewing and combining different ingredients into refined delicacies, he decided that chocolate was his genre and set out to learn everything he could about the secrets of making the best chocolate in the world. For five years he travelled around the world, explored and learned, found out thrilling secrets about Mayan and Aztec ancient cocoa remedies and delicacies, and eventually he began creating new and exciting variations of his own.

After his explorations he settled down, living in little villages in France, Italy and Spain, always choosing to live like a Muggle instead of a wizard, putting his skills to use and inventing a lot of new ways to make his art with chocolate. He enjoyed his freedom, his simple lifestyle, his anonymity here among the Muggles, far away from the wizarding world where everyone knew his name because of his family. Here he was just Draco, the chocolatier and a bit of an eccentric, but that was mostly acceptable because he was seen as an artist. He never let anyone know about his magical abilities and used his magic as little as possible. He never allowed himself to get attached to any place he stayed or any people he got to know there, because he knew it wouldn't last. Because when the time was right and the wind changed, he packed his things again and moved to another little village, to a new life. He lived alone, travelled alone, but he didn't feel lonely. Not until recently.

These past few weeks he had been restless, but he knew it wasn't time for him to move yet. He had felt there were changes coming for him, but he didn't know what it would be, not yet. However, he'd had vivid dreams of water, much like the river that ran next to this village, and bright green eyes that filled his soul with contentment. Now, today, as the wind changed, he couldn't help but wonder if this was it.

* * *

After closing his chocolaterie for the night, Draco left Josephine to clean up, and allowed his senses to guide him toward the river. As he approached the riverside, he heard cheerful chattering, laughing, and someone quietly playing guitar in the background. When he rounded the last bushes to get to a perfect vantage point, he noticed someone already standing there, his stance rigid, watching the people down on the riverbank.

Draco stopped next to the man watching the drifters and spared a brief glance at the man. "Good evening, Count Reynaud," he greeted quietly.

"Monsieur Malfoy, I should have known you'd be interested in these river rats," Reynaud scowled. "You better stay away from them if you wish to stay in good terms with the villagers. They are nothing but scum, criminals and loafers, every one of them."

"You should have more faith in your villagers, Count Reynaud. I don't believe they are all criminals and loafers, at least not the children," Draco smirked at the pompous mayor of the village. From the very beginning he had hated the pretentious man who tried to dictate every villager's life according to his own beliefs.

"Monsieur Malfoy, I don't think you understand the seriousness of the situation. These bastards are a bad influence on my village, and I will not tolerate them contaminating my people with their bad morals and lord knows what diseases they are carrying!"

"In that case, I suppose you'd better avoid them at all costs then, Count Reynaud. I'd hate to see you being contaminated by something so vile as happiness," Draco sneered and turned to look at the cheerful people on the riverbank again.

"You will regret your rudeness, Monsieur Malfoy, I will guarantee it!" Count Reynaud turned on his heel and stormed away. Draco mock-saluted him and drawled, "Monsieur le Maire," before turning his attention back to the people by the river.

He watched the drifters with keen interest; they looked so laid-back and carefree that it made him envy them. There were several adults puttering around the boats they had arrived on, men and women who looked perfectly normal in his eyes. No signs of vile criminality as the mayor had suggested, but of course these traits didn't necessarily show outside of the person. However, Draco had no intention of believing anything but his own instincts in the matter anyway.

There were at least five children among the drifters, and currently they were sitting around a campfire, listening to a dark haired man telling them stories. The children looked excited, fully engrossed with the story and the man telling it with vivid expressions on his handsome face, his voice keeping their attention solely enthralled in the story.

Draco stared at the man with growing interest; there was something familiar in his features, and something in him pulled Draco irresistibly toward him. Without even realizing it, his feet took him to the campfire as if in a trance, and it wasn't until the dark haired man raised his head and curiously glanced at him with his bright green eyes, that Draco snapped out of it. He stood there like a fool, uncharacteristically unable to get a word out of his mouth, and in his daze didn't realize at first that the man had spoken to him.

"Err… I beg your pardon?" Draco managed at last.

"I'd like to apologize," the man grinned, "For all of us. Sincerely."

"What for?"

"For whatever it is you're here to accuse us of."

"Why would I do that?" Draco asked confused.

"Well, because we river rats are the dregs of society. With horrible diseases and criminal impulses," the man smirked, and Draco felt his knees buckle. He leaned against a tree trunk to keep himself upright.

"Is it true?"

"It's what you townspeople always seem to think, isn't it?"

"This is not my town, sorry," Draco defended.

"Well, then, what do you want?"

"Just passing by. I'm sorry, didn't mean to interrupt your little fairy tale moment. Have a good evening." Draco turned away as if to leave, but the man's voice stopped him.

"You don't have to go, there's plenty of room around the fire."

Draco turned slowly to look at the man, and the look in those green eyes was so inviting that he couldn't resist. The man made room for Draco next to him, and Draco sat carefully on the log.

"So, if this isn't your town, what are you doing in here?" the man asked, his eyes curious.

"Chocolate."

"Chocolate? Why on earth would anyone be making chocolate in this bloody little hamlet?"

"Why on earth would anyone camp next to this bloody little hamlet? Especially when the villagers don't seem to appreciate it much?" Draco asked sarcastically, a little bit offended.

"Touché. I guess I deserved that. I'm sorry. I'm Harry, by the way," the man grinned and offered his hand.

"Draco. I have a little chocolaterie at the town square. What's your excuse for being here?"

"I'm one of these river rats, sailing down the river on our boats in the summertime, stopping and camping where it feels right, for as long as it feels right."

"And are these kids yours?" Draco nodded towards the children, who stared at him with wide eyes.

Harry chuckled. "Not exactly. They just seem to like my stories. They all belong to our extended family."

Draco smiled at the children. "Anyone of you got a sweet tooth?"

All the kids nodded excitedly. Draco laughed delightedly. "Very well then, come visit my chocolaterie tomorrow and I'll see what we can do about it."

The children giggled and jumped to their feet, scurrying on their way, and Draco turned to look at Harry.

"I think I better be going myself. Will I see you tomorrow, too?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"Maybe. Probably. Thank you for inviting the kids tomorrow, Draco, but listen… I should probably warn you. You make friends with us, you'll make enemies of others."

"That a promise?" Draco asked grinning.

"It's a guarantee."

"Looking forward to it then," Draco said standing up and turning to leave. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Draco. Pleasant dreams."

* * *

The next morning Draco was up early, his mood brilliant after a good night's sleep. He was humming while he was stirring the molten chocolate, when Josephine stepped in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Draco. You certainly are cheerful this morning. Had fun last night?" she asked grinning and winking at him.

"You could say that," Draco answered, adding, "and good morning to you too." Then he continued his stirring and humming.

"Be careful not to be heard, so that you don't lose your reputation as the evil wife captor," Josephine said, nodding towards the open window.

Draco snorted. "As if anyone could kidnap you against your will. If I recall correctly, it was you who tied your drunk husband down so you could get away from him. I was merely the only person in this village who had enough balls to take you in."

Josephine sighed. "I bumped into Count Reynaud yesterday. He's still trying to convince me to go back to Serge and respect the sacrament of marriage no matter how violent Serge is toward me. I don't know what Serge will do if Count Reynaud encourages him to do something about getting me back. That man is really unpredictable."

"Don't worry about him, Jo. I think Serge still remembers the headache he received when he visited here last time. And our skillet is still dented because his skull was thicker than we thought," Draco chuckled, remembering how Josephine had stunned a raging Serge with a skillet. Josephine joined his laughter and soon they were both absorbed in the fine art of creating chocolate.

It was late in the afternoon when Draco heard excited voices of children approaching his shop, and he was delighted to see Harry herding the five kids from last night inside the chocolaterie.

"Well, hello again. Welcome to Chocolaterie Maya," Draco greeted his visitors, flashing a wide smile toward Harry as well. Harry smiled back and winked at him, but otherwise let the children get the most of Draco's attention.

The kids greeted him enthusiastically, staring with awed expressions on their little faces at all the chocolate delicacies on display. Draco presented them his spinning top, one he had received from a Mayan descendant who had taught him the brilliant use of chili pepper in chocolate.

"Now, this is a game from Guatemala. A very old Mayan lady taught me how to play it. Would you like to try it?" Draco asked the children with a smile.

"Was she a real Indian?" One of the boys asked awestruck.

"Yes, she was, still is, I suppose. Look, when you spin this top really fast, you'll see a picture forming from the patterns on the top. When you tell me what picture you see, I can tell you what kind of chocolate you like. Got it?"

The children gathered around the spinning top and all of them wanted to try it at least once to see what kind of picture they would see on it. Then Draco picked their favourite chocolate based on the picture they'd seen, and it was a success, as always. The spin top was never wrong.

As the kids were happily munching their sweets, Draco leaned closer to Harry. "Would you like to spin the top, too? Or would you like for me to guess what's your favourite? I have a knack for guessing people's favourites, you know."

Harry chuckled. "I want to see how well you'll guess my favourite by yourself, please."

"Hmmm. Let's see." Draco assessed the man in front of him for a while, then he stepped back and reached for a small tray of chocolate from the shelf behind him.

"The Pepper Triangle, that's for you. A tiny hint of chili pepper to play against the sweetness. Tangy, adventurous, much like you. This is your favourite."

Draco offered the chocolate to Harry, who smiled and picked one of the chocolates, closing his eyes when he tasted it on his tongue. Draco eyed the man smugly, being sure that he had it right on the first try. Harry's expression was nearly orgasmic.

"Mmmm, it's good, very good, but not my favourite."

Draco could barely hide his disappointment, but rose to the challenge quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

"Alright then, we'll try something else next time," Draco said, already browsing his selections in his mind. If he put his mind to it, he would find his favourite soon enough.

Josephine came into the shop from the kitchen, carrying a new batch of confections, and offered the kids a taste. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Is she your wife?"

Draco looked up, not the least surprised, because that was a common belief in the village now. Well, not the "wife" part, but everyone thought they shared more than just an apartment and the work after Josephine had moved in with him.

"No, no, she's my shop assistant… and a friend, who happens to live here too," he hurried to explain. He didn't want to risk scaring Harry away now that he'd seen a hint of interest in his eyes toward himself. He knew for certain that he was definitely attracted to Harry already.

"Well, I think we must be going now. Kids, say thanks and goodbye to Monsieur Draco, okay?"

With a cheerful choir of the kids thanking Draco and Josephine still ringing in the shop, Harry gathered the kids and ushered them out of the door. At the door he glanced over his shoulder and grinned.

"Thank you, Draco. See you around!"

* * *

During the next week Harry kept popping up at the chocolaterie almost every day, usually spending most of the afternoon lounging around the shop or watching Draco make chocolate in the kitchen. Their bantering was relaxed, and Draco enjoyed their afternoons together.

At first some of the customers were uncomfortable at seeing Harry spending time in the shop, and some of them even turned away from the door when they noticed him inside, but as the days went by and Draco encouraged them to come inside, they seemed to slowly start relaxing around the resented drifter. At the beginning of the second week of Harry's visits, a couple of the customers, Monsieur Blérot and Madame Audel began exchanging hesitant greetings and a few words with him. Also Draco's landlady, Armande Voizin, a grumpy old woman with a sharp tongue but a great sense of humor, had started to hang around the shop more often when Harry was there - out of curiosity, Draco guessed. Surprisingly Harry and Armande got along brilliantly. They were usually verbally sparring with each other, throwing prickly but goodnatured retorts and telling stories that mostly weren't suitable for young ears. Draco enjoyed listening to them while he worked; he had been cautiously friendly and always polite toward Armande before, but now he began to really like her. As for Harry, Draco began to irrevocably fall in love with him.

One day, about two weeks since Harry had begun to frequent his chocolaterie, Draco tried once again to guess his favourite chocolate. He had tried every day since day one, but he never got it right. After various sorts of truffles, biscuits, confections, cakes and seashells hadn't worked, now he tried a different approach. Draco bit his lip while working in his kitchen, stealing calculating glances at Harry.

"You make the most wonderful chocolate, Draco." Harry's voice was soft, a bit of awe in it. "I love to watch you working."

Harry was leaning against one of Draco's worktables, watching him make ganache for the filling of confections and then adding the filling to the mold before spreading the last layer of chocolate on top of the mold. When Draco put the mold into the freezer, he had made up his mind.

"I'm quite sure that I know now what's your favourite, Harry." He went to grab a jar from the shelf on the wall. "Try these."

"What are they?"

"Unrefined cocoa nips from Guatemala," Draco answered, and then added under his breath, "to awaken the passions."

Harry chuckled and took one bean from the jar. "Do I see a pattern in your guesses? Yesterday you tried Nipples of Venus for me and now you're awakening the passions?"

Draco blushed, but defiantly kept his eyes on Harry. "I'm merely guessing here. You are not an easy person to read, you know. Well, did I guess it right this time?"

"Impressive… but not my favourite."

Draco sighed. He was disappointed, but definitely not defeated. He still had some surprises up his sleeve, he just had to refresh his memories from the early days of his training in Central America. He was frowning in concentration, when a gentle hand lifted his chin and bright green eyes watched him intently.

"Draco, you don't need to awaken my passions. They have been up and awake for you for a while already. I wonder if…" Harry's voice trailed off and his lips closed the distance between them, brushing gently against Draco's. "Come with me tonight, let's take a trip in the moonlight down the river, just you and me."

"How… how did you know? No one knows that I'm…" Draco breathed against his lips.

"Armande knows more than you'd believe," Harry whispered and kissed him again.

* * *

"Josephine, have you slipped something to Armande about me?" Draco asked later that day when they were closing the chocolatier together.

"No, of course not. Oh, I told her about your experimenting with chocolate curry the other day, but I didn't know it was a secret. Why?" Josephine frowned.

"Well, Harry seemed to know that I… err.. prefer men. He said that Armande had told him," Draco said blushing slightly.

"Oh, that. Yes, I heard Armande talking to Harry. _'What are you waiting for, lad? Go and grab him, he's into you, even I can see that'_", Josephine made a perfect imitation of Armande.

Draco groaned. "How the hell could have Armande noticed it? Am I that obvious? And does everyone else also know now?"

"I don't think that anyone else knows but me and Armande. Your secret is safe with us, I promise. We have only noticed it because we see you and Harry together so often. Falling in love is good for you, so I suggest you go for it," Josephine grinned and playfully shoved him toward the door. "If I heard right, you have a date, so get going on already!"

Draco grinned. "Alright, I'm going. I just need to grab the wine I've saved for a special occasion. I think this is it."

He went to the kitchen to grab the bottle and then left, heading to the river. He had butterflies fluttering in his stomach and doubts filled his head, but yet his feet took him without hesitation toward the riverbank and Harry.

The drifters were gathered around the campfire when Draco arrived, and when the children noticed him, they ran to greet him. Draco hadn't come unprepared, and he had some chocolate for them. The kids were thrilled, and Draco could tell that he was quickly becoming their new favourite person. However, that would mean Harry losing that status with his storytelling skills, but Draco was sure that Harry would survive.

Draco greeted the other drifters on his way to Harry's boat which was tied a little further from the dock where most of the other boats were tied. Draco knew which one was Harry's, he had told him about his beautiful wooden boat often enough. It was made of teak wood, a lovely shade of warm brown, the wheelhouse on the top of it, and the living quarters under the deck. It was about 10 metres long, big enough for accommodating a couple of people comfortably.

When Draco stopped in front of the boat, unsure how to announce his arrival to Harry, the man peeked out from the wheelhouse door.

"Hello, Draco, you're just in time. Come up here!"

Harry reached his hand to Draco and helped him up into the boat and into his arms.

"Welcome to my home," Harry whispered against Draco's lips before kissing him deeply.

Draco let himself be surrounded by such delicious and arousing feelings during that kiss that he had some difficulty staying steady on his feet. Well, he could always blame the waves of the river for causing him to sway on his feet.

"Mmmm, you should always greet me like that," Draco murmured distractedly, "but not in front of my customers, of course."

"That can be easily arranged," Harry grinned. "Why do you need to hide that side of you from your customers? I thought you didn't care what they thought about you?"

"I don't care, but I also don't have any need for them to know everything about me. Living in a small village as this one can be more difficult than it needs to be with them knowing that side of me."

"So you don't have a lover here then?"

"No, not that that's any of your business anyway." Draco blushed and averted his eyes from Harry.

Harry pecked him on the lips and took his hand. "Come on, I'll show you my humble home."

They left the wheelhouse and headed down toward the living quarters below the deck. There were two small cabins as bedrooms, a lounge area and a small but practically equipped galley kitchen. Everything seemed so small but cozy, and Draco couldn't help but think how handy it was to move around, but still keep your home with you. He must have said that out loud, because Harry looked at him with a proud smile on his lips.

"Yeah, its quite practical to keep my home with me, wherever I go. This is only my second summer with the drifters, and I've had this boat only about two years, but it's an old one, about 30 years old. I fell in love with it on the first sight."

"It's lovely, indeed. You've taken good care of it. Was all this furniture already here when you bought it?"

"Every piece of furniture in a boat is a fixture, so they were all here when I bought her. I only reupholstered some of the furniture more to my liking. I named this boat after my mother, Lily, and I wanted some of her colours, green and auburn here as well."

Draco fiddled with the soft green pillow on the sofa and admired the colouring. Green, auburn and pale yellow were in perfect harmony with the teak wood of the boat. "This is really beautiful. You must have a great eye for colours, and such good taste, too."

"Thank you. Speaking of taste, I wouldn't mind having dinner soon, so we better get going. I know just the perfect place to take you for dinner," Harry said and tugged Draco with him upstairs.

Harry untied the boat and leaped back on the boat smoothly, starting to steer the boat upstream. The motor of the boat was running quietly, sending low vibrations through the deck under their feet.

Draco had never before sailed on the river, and the sight was breathtaking. Both sides of the river were full with lush greenery; the trees lining the river were large, some of them reaching their branches toward the water. Further past the tree line Draco could see fertile farmland and vineyards around rustic farmhouses. He couldn't get enough of the view, his eyes were devouring everything from cattle and sheep grazing in the fields to the little towns and villages scattered further away upstream.

Harry steered the boat toward a small bay that was sheltered by the trees and a meander in the river. He busied himself with tying the boat to the tree trunk leaning over the water.

Draco stood on the deck and looked around. The bay was a peaceful place. There were no other noises but some late birds fluttering around trees and grasshoppers chirring in the grass. The sun was setting behind the trees, and dusk was fading into darkness. Draco watched as stars lit up in the sky and the moon sailed out from behind a cloud. It was a perfect moment, and Draco sighed in contentment.

"Bored already?"

Draco turned around toward the amused voice of Harry, who had stepped behind him without him noticing.

"Of course not. This is perfect. How could anyone be bored in a place like this, in the evening like this?"

"That's true, this is alovely evening. Come on, dinner is ready," Harry said taking Draco's hand in his and pulling him toward the aft of the boat.

Harry had set a picnic on the aft deck. There was a big blanket thrown down on the deck, and several bowls full of food sat on the blanket. The wine bottle Draco had brought with him was already open and waiting for them.

As they sat down, Harry poured glasses of wine for both of them and made a toast.

"To the perfect night," he said and clinked his glass to Draco's.

"Perfect night," Draco agreed and smiled. "Don't tell me you cooked all this yourself?" Draco gestured at the several bowls of food between them.

"Absolutely not. I'm pants at cooking. Claire, one of the drifters, is a brilliant cook, she made them all."

"Mmm, smells delicious," Draco approved peeking at the contents of the bowls.

"So what are we waiting for?" Harry asked and started serving the food.

It was a simple but absolutely divine dinner with fresh salad and crusty bread, lamb chops with ratatouille, and some cheese and fruits for dessert. The wine was perfect with every dish, and as they enjoyed the dessert, Harry noticed the bottle was already empty. No wonder that Draco had felt dizzy for some time already.

Harry left the deck to find another bottle from his kitchen, taking the emptied bowls and plates with him, and Draco lounged on the blanket feeling more relaxed than in years. He was idly wondering what would happen next with Harry, and how he was actually looking forward to it. All of a sudden a large owl landed on the railing next to him, hooting softly. Draco recognized the bird immediately, it was Freya, his mother's owl.

Draco smiled drowsily at Freya, happy to see her after a couple of months' silence. His mother relentlessly kept in touch with Draco despite his father's disapproval. He reached his hand toward Freya for petting, but then he remembered Harry. Seeing a pet owl delivering mail would undoubtedly cause too many uncomfortable questions, and Draco wasn't up for anything that could spoil his perfect evening with Harry.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Harry was still inside the boat and whispered urgently to the bird, "Not now, Freya. Go away and come back later when I'm back in the house. Shoo!"

He waved his hand, trying to shoo Freya away, but the stubborn bird just dodged, blinked her eyes at Draco and looked offended.

"Go, Freya! Quickly before Harry comes back. He must not see you! If you come to my house later, I'll give you an extra treat, _many_ extra treats, but you have to go now. Shoo!" Draco tried, but tensed when he heard chuckling behind him.

"Don't bully the poor owl, Draco. Why don't you let it do it's job and see what it has brought for you?" Harry said in an amused tone and joined Draco on the blanket. He had an opened wine bottle in his hand and proceeded refilling their glasses.

Draco flushed with embarrassment, and for a while he wasn't quite sure what to do. Then he reached for Freya to untie the parchment from her leg. Harry offered Freya some bread crust for a reward. "It's a beautiful owl. What's it's name?"

"Freya. She's my mother's owl," Draco explained curtly, afraid that from now on everything would go downhill. Freya accepted the offered crust from Harry and flew away.

"It's been a while since I've seen anyone receiving an owl. So you're a wizard then, aren't you?"

Draco froze. So Harry knew about the wizarding world? There would be no use in denying it anymore, not after Harry had seen the owl. Draco braced himself and lifted his chin.

"Yes, I'm a wizard - or I used to be. However, I prefer to live among Muggles now," he said defiantly, looking Harry straight in the eye.

"Hey, we don't have to talk about it if you're uncomfortable with the issue," Harry said soothingly, but something in the way he said it made Draco decide to go for it.

"No, it's alright. I just haven't talked about it for so long that it feels weird. Living among Muggles doesn't give you many opportunities to talk about it even if you wanted to, not that I ever did. How do you know about the wizarding world anyway? Are you a wizard yourself?" Draco asked, now curious.

"Yeah, I am, but just like you, I prefer living among Muggles. The drifters don't ask too many questions, so living with them has been convenient." Harry said, but then his gaze turned warm when he looked Draco in the eyes. "And yet here we are, two wizards, living among the Muggles, trying to leave the wizarding world behind and still gravitating toward each other." Harry grinned, and then turned serious.

"Somehow I can feel your magic. I can feel it flowing between us, our bodies, connecting us. I have felt it from the moment I met you, but I didn't understand it until now. Do you… do you feel it too?"

"Yes," Draco whispered, breathless, and when Harry took his hand, linking their fingers together, a tingling warmth spread through his whole body making him shiver in arousal. He stared at Harry as hypnotized, not really realizing Harry's face coming closer until his warm lips covered his in a gentle kiss. Draco opened his lips, inviting Harry's exploring tongue inside and moaned into Harry's mouth. That urged Harry to roll them over, covering Draco's body with his, and the kiss grew more passionate, Harry devouring Draco's mouth as if he was a starving man having his first meal in weeks. His hands wandered on Draco's body, leaving tingling path along their way.

Harry trailed his lips along Draco's jaw and down his neck, and whispered in a hoarse voice, "I want you, Draco. Please?"

Draco only nodded, he couldn't phrase even the simplest words for a response to Harry's question, but that was the only affirmation Harry needed. His lips fastened again on Draco's and the kiss stole Draco's breath away. As Harry's shaking fingers started to open the buttons of his shirt, he slipped one hand to Harry's neck and the other under Harry's shirt, the fervent need to feel bare skin guiding his actions. When Harry had Draco's torso bare and started kissing his way down, Draco grabbed Harry's shirt with both hands and tugged it over Harry's head, throwing it away.

For a moment Harry stared at Draco and his pale chest. Then he let out a low growl and attacked Draco's chest with his lips, kissing every inch before concentrating on his nipples pebbled in arousal.

Draco groaned as pleasure struck through him; it had been too long since he'd had a lover, and he had almost forgotten how good it felt, and now, being with Harry made him desperate. It made him ache for more, wanting, craving for this man worshipping his body with such enthusiasm that it made his blood turn into lava in his veins. His back arched and his hips bucked against Harry's begging for more contact.

Harry's response to his demand was to swiftly open his trousers and palm his erection as he resumed kissing his lips greedily. Intoxicated by lust, Draco started to grind his hips against Harry's palm causing Harry moan into the kiss. Harry tore himself from Draco's lips and moved down Draco's body, dragging his remaining clothes with him down and off of Draco completely. Then he swallowed him in one go, making Draco cry out from the sensation.

Draco clawed the blanket as Harry took him deep in his throat before moving on to licking and sucking his balls. He was too close to climax by now, and he didn't want to come like this. He needed a deeper connection, preferably Harry deep inside him when he came. He tugged Harry's head away from his groin. "I need more… please!"

"Top or bottom?" Harry asked huskily, still insistently rubbing Draco's cock in his hand.

"You… top," Draco managed gasping, and that was all the information Harry needed. He shrugged his own clothes off, retrieved a small tube of lube from his pocket and approached Draco's quivering entrance with his slick fingers. When the first finger entered Draco, he cried out, it felt so good. Harry didn't waste any time by going slow - they were both too far gone for that. Harry swiftly added more fingers into Draco, brushing against his prostate again and again, until it became too much and Draco had to grab Harry's wrist to stop him.

"If you're going to fuck me, you better do it now or you will be too late," he groaned, his whole body throbbing with need.

Harry flashed him a wicked grin, positioned himself against Draco's entrance and started to push in. He went slowly but firmly, not pausing until he was balls deep inside Draco, and then stilled, letting Draco adjust. Draco was too desperate to wait, so he wrapped his legs around Harry's waist, crossing his ankles to get a better grip and ground his hips against Harry's.

"Move - I need you to move," Draco said, more than a hint of impatience in his voice. Harry chuckled and complied, starting with shallow thrusts, but soon his pace quickened and turned stronger. Eventually Harry was pounding into Draco so hard that it made the boat rock in sync, and Draco keened in ecstasy. He was clawing at Harry's shoulders and arms in his desperate need to come, his whole body convulsing and trembling uncontrollably until he finally tumbled over the edge, climaxing so hard that some of his spunk landed on his chin.

Harry wasn't far behind; after a couple more thrusts he grunted and went rigid, his cock swelling even more and erupting deep inside Draco. Harry's hands were shaking and his hips still flexed against Draco's in aftershocks of his own climax. After pulling out of Draco, Harry collapsed next to him and pulled him close.

"Wow, that was… incredible," Harry breathed when his panting had subsided somewhat.

"Yeah, it was incredible," Draco agreed and nuzzled Harry's neck contentedly.

They laid there too tired and relaxed to move, Draco half asleep in Harry's arms. Their skin cooled and sweat dried, but the night was so warm that it didn't feel uncomfortable. They spent a long time just enjoying the closeness and the beautiful starlit night sky.

Later Harry covered them with one half of the blanket, and they cuddled and chatted quietly between small kisses and caresses. Soon one thing led to another, and this time they made love slowly, taking their time enjoying each other and the pleasure of their intimacy.

It was very early in the morning when Harry finally took them back to the village. None of the other drifters were awake yet, so after a long goodbye kiss Draco managed to slip back to his flat without anyone noticing.

* * *

After that first perfect night, Draco and Harry settled into a routine spending most of the nights together, usually on Harry's boat. They didn't sail along the river very often, but rather stayed among the other drifters, and soon they all were accustomed to Draco staying with them whenever he had spare time.

At the chocolaterie everyone noticed Draco's new happiness. He was more open and cheerful, and his happiness was mostly contagious. The customers were drawn into the shop and were staying there for a chat and purchases more frequently now.

The only ones who were not affected by the happiness and resented the blossoming chocolate business were Count Reynaud and Serge, Josephine's husband. Serge had visited Josephine a couple of times, begging forgiveness, and when that didn't work out, threatening to destroy Josephine and her new life if she didn't crawl back to their marriage. Josephine's answer had been short and blunt, "Fuck off!". Draco had been surprised and amazed at how determined Josephine had been. Serge was definitely not getting his old timid wife back anytime soon, probably never.

Count Reynaud seemed to keep encouraging Serge to persuade Josephine to come back; it seemed like Reynaud was obsessed with the idea of the sacrament of marriage. It was no secret that the Count's own wife had fled to Venice with no plans of ever coming back, so now he wanted to force everyone else to live up to his own rules, not that he followed them himself. Reynaud resented Draco for intervening in Josephine's and Serge's situation and for giving her a place to stay when she left her husband. Reynaud and Serge obviously still believed that Draco and Josephine were having an affair, although many villagers knew that Draco and Harry were an item.

Draco didn't care one way or another what everyone thought about him and Harry. He was happy, and for a change he had a chance to enjoy being pampered and taken care of. Harry seemed to like taking care of Draco, keeping him safe and giving him his undivided attention, and Draco loved every second of it.

Harry was surprisingly easy to talk to, and Draco had already spilled more of his secrets than he had done in his whole life. It had made him nervous at first, but somehow he trusted Harry completely, and after a while he felt comfortable chatting with him about everything.

Along with Draco, Josephine had also started to spend her free time with the drifters. More often than not Draco noticed Josephine sitting around the campfire, chatting with Claire. She had become close to Claire during these past few weeks after Draco had gotten together with Harry. To his amusement, Draco had also noticed one of the drifters, Luc, eyeing Josephine with keen interest. Josephine hadn't noticed anything, and Draco teased her about her admirer while they were working in the chocolaterie. Josephine only grinned, obviously pleased, and usually retaliated by throwing a dishcloth or spatula at him.

It was nearly the end of July, and Josephine had found out that Harry's birthday was coming. Harry himself hadn't said a word about it to Draco, but Claire had spilled the information to Josephine. The drifters were planning on moving on soon, so Claire, Josephine and Draco had planned to throw a surprise party for Harry. That's why Claire was currently cooking furiously in Draco's kitchen, and the other drifters had been told to keep Harry away from the chocolaterie today.

Draco had baked a huge chocolate cake and created an impressive collection of chocolate frogs, worms, snakes, birds, flowers and boats for children. Draco and Claire had also invented a perfect chocolate and wine sauce for beef Claire was cooking for the party. After closing the chocolaterie for the night, Claire, Josephine and Draco with the help of a few other drifters gathered all the food and carried it to the riverside. Armande joined their little cortege as they were passing her house, carrying a small birthday present in her hands. None of them noticed a man with a dark expression on his face following them.

The party was a success. Harry was totally surprised at seeing the celebration they had arranged for his birthday. The children bounced and giggled in excitement, the adults enjoyed the company, the music and dancing, and everyone was stuffed long before the food showed any signs of running out.

Armande was having a good time bantering with Claire's father Arthur, who had joined the drifters a couple days ago. He was a blacksmith who worked in a nearby town in his own little workshop. Arthur shared the most hilarious stories Draco had ever heard, and his booming laugh made everyone within earshot laugh as well.

Then there was dancing. The drifters were good at playing music with their guitars, violins and banjos, and all the others gave rhythm to the music with their stomping feet. The dancing was boisterous and joyous at the beginning and even Draco was coaxed to join in and have fun. As the night wore on, the music changed to slow, sentimental music that enticed people to press against each other and sway along with the music, bodies moving as one, intimately.

Draco was dancing with Harry, resting his head on Harry's shoulder and occasionally kissing his neck. Harry held him close, tightly, and Draco could feel Harry's arousal building between their bodies. Draco opened his eyes briefly to glance around, and noticed Josephine dancing with Luc in a way that told Draco that there was something definitely happening between the two of them. Draco smiled fondly; Josephine deserved every moment of happiness she could get.

Draco nuzzled Harry's neck with a contented sigh and closed his eyes again. Harry turned his head and kissed his temple, tightening his arm around Draco's waist.

"Do you think it would be appropriate if we slipped away?" Harry whispered.

"You tell me, you're the birthday boy. You get to do whatever you want today," Draco chuckled.

"Whatever I want? That's it, we're out of here," Harry said and tugged Draco with him, heading toward his boat.

They tumbled down on Harry's bed giggling and snorting about their clumsiness after too many glasses of wine. Draco was still laughing when Harry turned serious, running his hands down Draco's side.

"You know, I wanted to take you out on the river tonight. To the place where we spent our first night together," he mused.

"None of that now, you are too drunk to drive. Come on, Harry, let's celebrate your birthday in private now, just you and me," Draco said trying to calm down from his giggling. "Oh, I almost forgot. Happy birthday, Harry."

Draco pulled a slim box from under the bed where he had hidden it earlier and handed it to Harry. "At least it doesn't look like a book like Armande gave me," Harry grinned and opened the box. He lifted a wooden item from the box and frowned.

"You gave me a wooden club? For what, so that I can knock you unconscious and have my wicked way with you?" Harry said incredulously, but yet admiringly, caressing the beautifully crafted, elaborately ornamented wooden item in his hand.

"No, you idiot. It's _molinillo_, an old Aztec chocolate whisk. Don't you think those sharp edges would cut me badly if you used it as a club? No, you don't have to hit me unconscious to have your wicked way with me today," Draco grinned mischievously. "Anyway, I wanted to give you something that might remind you of me when you are gone."

Harry sighed. "Speaking of which, are you sure that I can't talk you into coming with me tomorrow? I'm not sure I'll be able to leave without you," Harry said looking Draco straight in the eye.

"Please, Harry, we have talked about this. You have your way and I have mine. It's not time for me to leave this place yet."

"Yeah, I know. The wind hasn't changed yet. Why can't you just once ignore the bloody wind and do whatever you feel like? I'm not letting any wind dictate when I'm ready to move on and that's working absolutely fine!"

"Stop arguing and kiss me, I don't want to waste any more time of our last night together," Draco ordered and wound his arms around Harry's neck, pulling him close. Harry swallowed the rest of his arguments and succumbed to the temptation of Draco's lips fastening on his own.

They made love, slow and tender, for hours. Neither of them wanted to sleep, not wanting to waste a second of their last night together. There was a melancholic air hanging around them, and somewhere in the wee small hours of the morning Draco fought against the tears that threatened to fall. His heart felt like it was breaking to pieces if he let himself think even for a moment about what his life would be like without Harry. He couldn't imagine it, not yet, and he tried to ruthlessly push the thought away.

The darkest hour of the night had passed and the dawn was slowly creeping in. Harry was whispering sweet nothings into his ear, peppering his shoulder and neck with little kisses, when there was a loud crash outside and people started yelling, "Fire!"

They jumped up, dressed hastily and bolted out of the boat in seconds to see what was happening. Harry sighed in relief when he noticed that all of the boats were safe, but then Draco stiffened. His eyes had caught movement in the village, and a faint light of flickering flames amidst a plume of thick smoke coming from where his chocolaterie was located.

Draco started running, followed by several other drifters, and they ran side by side with Harry. Draco was almost out of breath when they finally arrived at the chocolaterie, and indeed, the shop was on fire. There were already several villagers with buckets of water, and someone shouted for the fire brigade that consisted of volunteers in the village. They were already dragging a firehose toward the house, and Harry with some others went to help them.

Draco tried to comprehend what was happening; he was absolutely sure that he'd turned off the oven and stove, and there were nothing else in the chocolaterie or kitchen that could have set it on fire. Draco had been the last one to leave the house, even Josephine had… Josephine!

Draco frantically tried to see if Josephine was among the crowd on the street, but he couldn't see her. What if Josephine was still sleeping and trapped upstairs? Draco looked around, but no one else seemed to plan on going inside the house to check on her. The building wasn't completely on fire yet, upstairs seemed still untouched, and Draco weighed his options of getting past the fire in the shop to get to the stairs leading to the second floor. Josephine's room was first on the left so he could check on her first. Then if he still had time, he could grab some of his belongings before they were ruined by fire, smoke or water.

Draco didn't waste any time and took off running toward the front door. He rushed inside the shop and had to dodge the first burst of flames coming from behind the counter. He could hear a shout from the distance, it sounded like Harry was calling his name, but he was already inside and determined to accomplish the mission he had assigned for himself.

Draco managed to get to the stairs, but the smoke was thickening around him and it was beginning to be difficult to breathe. He used his sleeve against his nose and mouth to filter the air, but it wasn't helping much. He stumbled to the top of the stairs just as the flames reached the bottom stair and started to lick their way upward.

Draco's eyes were prickling when he reached the door to Josephine's bedroom and he wrenched it open. The room was empty. Draco didn't know if he should sigh in relief or scream in frustration, because in his attempt to save Josephine, he had now trapped himself inside the house. He couldn't get out of here anymore, at least not the same way he had arrived.

Next he headed to his own room, kicking the door open. The room was still untouched and there wasn't much smoke yet. He closed the door to slow the smoke and fire coming his way. Then he quickly sifted through his belongings to see what he really wanted to take with him if he ever got out of here. It wasn't much; materiality hardly meant anything to him these days, he could always buy new clothes and other necessities if needed. Some things, though, were not so expendable; a few items he had found during his explorations in Central America years ago and his little chest of treasures, containing pictures of his family, his wand and other valuables. He grabbed what he could carry and then peered out of the window, looking for an eaves trough or something he could use to climb down.

Harry was standing under his window, yelling as he noticed Draco's head peeking out, "Draco, you idiot! Come back here before the fire spreads upstairs!"

"I'm working on it, alright!" Draco yelled back, cursing as he saw the eaves trough too far away from the window for him to get a hold of it. He looked up to see if there was a way to get to the roof, when Harry ran back from the backyard of the next house carrying a ladder. Harry put the ladder against the wall just under Draco's window and shouted, "Use the ladder, quickly!"

Draco glanced over his shoulder to the room just in time to see thick smoke barrelling under his door, and the next moment the door was on fire. He climbed out of the window and down the ladder with one hand, all his saved belongings safely under his other arm. His feet barely touched the ground when Harry swept him into his arms and held tightly.

"Fucking idiot, I thought I lost you! What were you thinking, running into a burning building just like that? I was worried sick!"

Draco tried to extract himself from Harry's arms just to give him a glare, but Harry's hold was too tight.

"I was trying to save Josephine, but she wasn't there!"

"Josephine is here, she spent the night with Luc, she's safe. Didn't you see her?"

Hearing that, Draco's knees buckled and if not for Harry's arms around him, he'd have collapsed on the ground. Draco buried his face in Harry's neck and let out a relieved sob. Everything that mattered was alright.

* * *

Later that day Draco was sitting by the river, poking the campfire, thinking. The drifters had offered to postpone their leaving because of Draco's and Josephine's situation, but Draco had declined. He was trying to decide what to do. The drifters were busy packing their things and preparing to leave, and Draco watched them hurrying around.

Josephine had just left, hearing that Count Reynaud had been seen dragging Serge away from the chocolaterie just before the fire had been noticed. Now Serge was nowhere to be found, and Armande had heard a rumour that Serge was guilty of setting the chocolaterie on fire and Reynaud had banished him from the village for good. Armande had invited Josephine and Draco to stay with her until they decided what to do next. Josephine had already accepted the invitation, but Draco wasn't sure yet.

He tried to listen to his instincts, listen to the wind, anything that would give him a clue as to what path to choose now, but nothing was clear anymore. Had he lost his ability to sense these things now?

Deep in thought, Draco picked up some leftovers from last night's party and started a kettle of hot chocolate. He felt always better when working with chocolate while thinking.

He was absentmindedly stirring the chocolate, when Harry approached him. Harry took a sip of the mug of hot chocolate Draco handed him and chuckled.

"I thought you'd never guess, of all your delicious creations, my favourite is hot chocolate."

Draco smiled, finally seeing that last piece to the mystery of his favourite drifter fit in it's place. "Mystery solved then, I reckon. You can leave in peace now, Harry."

"The thing is, I don't want to leave without you. Not now. Come with me or I'll stay here with you, but I'm not ready to let you go. Please, Draco, ignore the wind this one time and listen to your heart. I'm yours if you want me."

Draco was quiet for a long time, listening. Harry sat on the log motionless as if frozen in place, waiting. The boats left one by one from the shore, sailing down the river and disappearing from sight, until there was only one boat left, tied to the dock.

Draco glanced at Harry. He was still here, waiting for his reply. So much depended on Draco's answer, and yet Harry didn't rush him. Draco felt a burst of affection spreading from his heart, warming him from inside, and suddenly he knew, suddenly he was absolutely sure.

"I don't hear the wind anymore, but I can hear my heart, loud and clear. I want to go with you, wherever you go. Sail on the river, spend the winter in your house in Toulouse, visit Britain or Guatemala together. I'm yours if you want me."

Harry jumped to his feet, pulling Draco with him into a tight embrace. He breathed only one word, "Draco," into his hair and then kissed him with so much love and passion that it left Draco breathless. He knew now, he was home.

The End


End file.
